A Night of Memories ONE SHOT
by FullMoonDreams
Summary: A HBP Snape POV which would take place on the night before Harry's first detention for sectumsempra.


_Disclaimer: The characters and places in this story are all the property of JK Rowling. I have merely borrowed them and given them my own little twist._**  
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**A Night of Memories**

"We've 'ad mice down 'ere" Filch grumbled as he pointed ahead of him, down the stairs and into one of the many subterranean passages of Hogwart's.

Severus followed behind him, brushing the odd stray cobweb out of the way as they navigated the narrow, downward sloping corridor, lit only by the oil lamp that Filch waved before him to guide their way.

He wondered just how far Filch was going as the passage twisted and turned, becoming less familiar until Severus knew that he was in a part of the school he had never before been.

Finally Filch made a final sharp turn and stopped before a large wooden door.

"This is it?" Severus asked as Filch rummaged through his coat pockets before at last producing an old and tarnished iron key and unlocking the door before them.

Filch nodded as he pushed open the door, Mrs Norris stalking past, clearly on the scent of something interesting.

"She does 'er best," Filch said as he nodded towards his cat. "But she's getting old now and Hogwart's is such a large territory to cover."

Severus nodded silently, having little interest in the cat who had given him more than a few scratches over the years he had known her.

He waited patiently as Filch moved about the room and lit the sconces on the walls. Soon the cavernous room was illuminated and Severus drew in a sharp breath at the sheer size of the room. Several times larger than the Great Hall the room was positively filled, wall to wall and ceiling to floor, with shelves crammed with boxes and old battered filing cabinets marking the end of each row.

"What is all this?" Severus asked as he looked over the boxes on the shelf nearest to him. The dust betrayed the fact that the contents had not been seen in years.

"Records," Filch replied as he walked through the rows and across to the far side of the room. "Hogwart's records, of all the misdeeds of all the students who've ever attended here."

"All the misdeeds?" Severus asked as he looked around him. The records of every student who had ever misbehaved in Hogwart's? "Why do you keep these?"

"Dumbledore's orders…and those that came before 'im," Filch replied. "'ere we are."

Severus looked at where Filch was pointing, and sure enough there were a number of boxes clearly nibbled at by the rodents that had survived in the bowels of the school in their efforts to avoid the abundance of felines in the higher recesses of the castle.

"The damps got to 'em too," Filch continued, and Severus involuntarily shivered. A room this size and this damp beneath the school could only mean one thing…they were also beneath the Great Lake. Hardly the safest place to store precious records.

"And what are you expecting me to do about this?" Severus asked with a touch of impatience to cover his unease.

"I thought you might be able to assist with getting these records restored," Filch suggested with a suspiciously bright gleam in his eyes. "Some of 'em will need writing out again, and they need to be kept in order."

"And what makes you think I've the time to devote to this monumental task?" Severus asked with a look of disbelief.

"I 'eard you had put that Potter brat in detention," Filch commented. Severus smiled as he followed Filch's train of thought. It would certainly keep the boy busy and save him from wasting time thinking of other things for him to do every Saturday. This job for Filch would keep him occupied until the end of the year with ease.

Severus crouched down on the dirty floor and manually pulled towards him the most damaged of the boxes. He eased the lid open and casually flicked through the contents. He pulled his hand back, startled as he spotted his own name on one of the battered cards.

Snape, Severus: Performed the Twitchy Ears Hex on James Potter: Detention 

"You want me to ask Potter to sort through these boxes right here?" Severus asked, wondering if Filch knew exactly what was in the boxes.

"And those," Filch replied, pointing towards more damaged boxes further down the row.

The detention was in the morning, Severus reasoned to himself. Would he have time to ensure that Potter didn't see anything he shouldn't?

Pulling out his wand he assured Filch that the contents would be restored and the boxes returned exactly where they came from. Then with a wave of his wand he levitated the boxes and took them back to his office.

Severus looked at the first of the boxes on his desk and with a quick glance at the magical hourglass he used to mark the time he realised it was going to be a long night.

He opened the first box and within a few moments he found himself drowning in memories. He'd never really looked back at his school days before; he'd done his best to put thoughts of that time from his mind, the recollections were too painful to linger over. Now, suddenly he was face to face with the evidence of not only what had been done to him at school, for his name was as frequently listed as the victim of some hex or jinx, but also what he had one to others.

Each card he pulled out brought back another memory. He was a first year when he'd pulled the stinging hex on Sirius Black; he remembered the detention he'd spent with Professor McGonagle the following week, and the lecture that went with it.

He didn't know which were worse, the memories of being caught doing something he shouldn't to one of the other students, more often than not James Potter or Sirius Black, or the memories of them doing something equally dreadful to him.

Slowly and painstakingly he worked his way through the boxes and pulled out each and every card that bore his name. Then he carefully put them into a separate box that would be kept well out of sight of the prying eyes of Potter. Some of the cards needed replacing and he resolved to replace them himself, Filch wouldn't know the difference, or even care, as long as the job was done.

Seven years worth of boxes to work his way through, seven years of memories to suppress once more, and less than twelve hours to complete the task before Potter arrived for his detention.

Potter had seen more than enough of his school days and he wouldn't give him access to any more.

It was 7:30am and Severus had been sorting through the boxes all night. He was shaking from the onslaught of the memories when a knock on the door pulled him back from one particularly dreadful recollection of a winter morning in his fourth year. It had been the morning a jubilant James Potter had used magic to cause the ice on the Great Lake to crack, and Severus, who had been skating with some of the other students had fallen into the icy water. One week in detention for Potter, one week in the hospital wing for himself. His fist was still clenched around the card at the injustice when Professor McGonagall cautiously opened the door.

"You missed dinner last night, and breakfast this morning," she said as she stepped into the room.

"Is that the time?" Severus asked as he looked askance at the hourglass.

"Have you been here all night?" Minerva asked with a worried glance at her colleague.

"I had to get these ready for Potter," explained Severus with a wave of his hand over the desk. Minerva looked at him, an expression of confusion on her face.

"Filch's records," Severus said before explaining what he'd been doing all night.

"So you've removed all references to yourself?" Minerva asked.

"Every last one," Severus confirmed. "Or almost…" he gestured to the last of the boxes in the office, and the one he had only got two thirds of the way through.

"Harry should be here soon," Minerva commented.

"You weren't going to ask me to let him play in the match?" Severus asked.

"No," Minerva replied. "Not this time, Harry's deserves the detention. I won't be overriding your authority in this matter."

"Thank you," Severus replied as he turned back to his task, and quickly now that time was running out, pulled the cards with his name from the box and cast them quickly into the box that contained the rest.

He didn't realise that Minerva remained until her hand flitted before his eyes and plucked a card from the pile. A fond smile stretched across her face as she read the words upon it.

"I remember this one," she commented. "It was on the second day of your sixth year…"

Severus stilled and looked closer at the card. He remembered that day without any need for the reminder of the card. It was the day he'd taken his revenge on Potter for the incident near the lake on the day of his Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL. Not that the woman in front of him knew that: Or did she? As far as he knew she hadn't witnessed the episode but word had travelled fast and he never had known for sure if she had heard about it after the event.

He'd managed to avoid Potter and Black until the end of the fifth year, spending most of his time safely ensconced in the Slytherin quarters. During the summer he'd considered his choices and plotted his revenge. The revenge that hadn't gone quite according to his plan and was forever inscribed on the card in Minerva's hand. She handed it back to him and he placed it once more into the box that would soon be hidden and locked away.

"I'd better get down to the pitch," Minerva said as she turned towards the door. "I think Harry might enjoy reading about what his father and friends got up to when they were in school, even if the job itself is rather a long and monotonous one."

Severus scowled, the last thing he wanted was for Potter to enjoy his time in detention. He hadn't even thought about the possibility that he might and he silently thanked Minerva for bringing the possibility to his attention.

"Don't forget to eat lunch," Minerva reminded him as the door closed behind her.

Severus nodded, even though he knew she wouldn't see his response, and continued to quickly pluck out the cards he didn't want Potter to see.

Finally he had reached the last card, hidden away the extra box and sat down to wait for Potter to arrive. A few moments later a knock sounded on the door and the spawn of James Potter had arrived, still following in his father's footsteps.


End file.
